Chocolate is Life
by MagicalNeonOwls
Summary: The Flock finally gets to have fun. No more being hunted down by Erasers, or trying to outrun freakazoid psychopaths. But being a mutant comes with other, more serious problems, like chocolate. Enter the life of Maximum Ride. Minor Fax!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: My first Fanfic, guys! Okay, so this morning I was pouring my cereal, but I was extra sleepy and drowsy. Then I freaked out 'cause this Star Wars poster thing fell out. I literally yelped and jumped back. I'm such a wimp in the mornings... anyways, enjoy!**

**Oh, almost forgot: MAXIMUM RIDE OWNS HERSELF. NO ON ECAN OWN IT! I am not a creepy old man with a plastered on cheesy smile. Do I look like James Patterson? I guess you wouldn't know anyway - I hope you don't. With an exception of **luvcookiesandHMS. **She actually knows me. I'll get on with the story now...**

I dragged my feet to the kitchen. I was practically sleepwalking, my nose leading the way to the delicious smell of bacon. "Iggy," I drawled. "Are you done yet? Jeez, how long does it take to cook a piece of bacon?" My stomach growled at the thought of thin, crispy, fatty bacon. Turning the corner, I saw none other than Voldemort himself, frying my bacon, using Iggy's favorite polka-dotted spatula.

"Well, well. Max Ride, the girl who lived, come to die!" He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named raised a stick of butter threateningly. I cowered in fear in front of The Dark Lord.

But thankfully, my pet koala Aussie, leapt from the ceiling and tackled the most dangerous wizard on earth. I threw my Pokeball yelling, "I choose you, VIOLIN!" My amazing violin flew out of the Pokeball and used its incredible ninja moves to kill off Voldemort. Soon enough, the commotion died down, and I ate my bacon in peace. I sighed in contentment. My life is so epic. I felt something jerking my shoulders, and someone shouting "Holy crap, Max! What is your _problem?_"

I blinked and saw a raving, loony psychopath at my bedside. Ha. No, actually, it was Gazzy. His blond hair stuck up everywhere, and his wild blue eyes stared me down like I'd grown wings. Which, I guess, I have. Shaking away my grogginess, I clambered off the bed and nearly fell face first on the hard wood floor. "Language, Gazzy."I muttered. Gazzy ran out of my room ranting something about Pokemon, Voldemort, and murderous bacon. I didn't want to know.

My cream-colored room mocked me with its drab color choice and the paper all over the floor. Being the neat freak that I am, I set to work, picking up the stray papers, wires, and Cheerios strewn carelessly throughout my pathetic living space. Curse the demented children that polluted my room with their ickiness. Oh, those are my siblings. Sorry, siblings. Ten minutes later, I was strolling out the door to get some breakfast and to wake up the others, when I noticed the Flock sitting in a circle in the living room. My demonic sister, Angel, sat criss-cross-applesauce on the sofa and noticed me first. "Hey Max." she said. Wearily, I scanned the room for any stink bombs Iggy and Gazzy may have planted to make me smell for a week. That's happened before, you know. Nothing.

"Hey," I said, tentatively stepping forward. Fang and Iggy solemnly looked up at me, their innocent expressions so _not _innocent, it made me crack up. "You – look – so – stupid – like that!" I cackled. No one else laughed.

"We're here to hold an intervention, Max." Fang said, looking grim – but probably holding back laughter. "Mr. Gasman has told us about your mental dilemma while you sleep." The Flock nodded. "So, yeah. Sit down, Maximum Ride, and do whatever we tell you to do." I sat down in the center of the circle – the mushpot, as Nudge calls it. Have I mentioned how unnaturally quiet Nudge is today?

"Okay, Maximum," Iggy started. "We'll start off with a short game of 'Name Whatever'."

Honestly, I didn't know what the heck that game was, (they probably made it up) but I decided to play along. How are you supposed hold an intervention, anyway?

"Max, name something stupid."

"You." I said cockily.

"Wrong answer. Have I mentioned if you fail the intervention, you have to do whatever the rest of the Flock wants for one day?"

What?

"O.K., next, name something hot."

"A stove."

"Something you watch."

"A movie."

"Something you say on Facebook."

"Uhh, 'I like trains'?"

"Something you play."

"A ukulele."

"Something wrong."

"The earth is flat."

"Something gone wrong."

"Fang's brain."

I had to giggle to that. But I don't giggle, so, it sounding like a squealing constipated duck. Angel and Gazzy had to laugh though. Fang was not amused. He sent his shadowy gaze my way and fixed me with it like a spotlight. "Us." I said suddenly.

Nudge finally spoke up. "What?" she said.

"We're something gone wrong. You know, failed experiments." The Flock laughed at the twisted humor. But Iggy wasn't done with his game.

"Next we're doing Truth and Dare." Fang said eyeing me mischievously. He knew I'd always pick a dare. "Max, truth or dare?"

"Dare." I said cautiously. Honestly, I was enjoying this.

"I dare you to… do a free fall outside."

"Sure."

Fang winked. "But you can't use your wings to stop yourself when you're about to hit the ground. Someone has to catch you. 'K?"

I wrinkled my nose. But I wasn't going to back down. "Okay."

Angel's turquoise eyes widened as she got up. Iggy and His Paleness seemed to be liking the idea of letting me kill myself. Nudge didn't say anything. Was she okay? I did a few arm circles once Gazzy opened the wooden door and we all stepped out into the chilly September day. Snapping out my tawny wings to stretch, I suddenly realized how dark Fang's wings were. Heck, they looked blue in the sunlight, they were so black. Fang turned around and caught me staring. I went an angry shade of red, and Fang smirked. "I was admiring your _blue _wings, Fang." I said. And then the Nudge channel turned on:

"Oh my god, Max, you take so long we've already been out here for a million minutes – do the dare already besides Iggy isn't even done with his intervention and Gazzy was all like 'Max is having dreams about bacon, Voldemort, and Pokemon' it's so lame; but they changed the theme song and now its stupid and I think that people should keep the original stuff it always sounds better so yeah Max—"

Jeez, Nudge's whole life is a run-on sentence. I didn't have the heart to tell her to shut up, though. Iggy cleared his throat and the Flock fell quiet. He practically floated into the sky like a ballerina with his white wings. That boy was albino or something. "Do it, Max." he said.

I wondered who was going to catch me. Angel? No. Gazzy? Probably not. Nudge? Nope, not in a million years. That left Fang and Iggy. I had a feeling I couldn't trust either of them.

But, being the crazed bird-teen that I am, I went ahead and did it anyway.

I propelled myself upward, pushing down with my wings. Once I gained momentum, I rocketed more and more up, until I was like, a million feet in the air. One thing about being super duper high: Its cold. Okay, that's a major understatement. It's freakin' FREEZING. At this point, I hoped I'd get it over with, and FAST. If I left my wings out when I free fall, I would completely fracture them, so without hesitating, I tucked them in.

One second later, I was plummeting to a certain death. Cold air rushed up my ears, me, the moron hurtling through the wet clouds, my feet nearly touching my forehead.

Worst part? I was screaming like a girly, decapitated chicken the whole way down.

I envisioned my obituary in the newspaper. _GIRL FALLS FROM SKY AND DIES! NO ONE CLAIMS TO KNOW HER! WHAT AN IDIOT! _By right now, I was day-dreaming. I love to eat fluffy hamsters that had stripes on them. And one time, I flew a kite shaped like an elephant. It was cool. But not as cool as the time my yellow unicorn broke up with my turtle. I like turtles. And—

"AHHHHHHHH!" My screeching should have been bleeped about a thousand times for the profanity that came flooding out of my mouth. I blame Fang. It was all his dare. If I die, I swear, I'll kill him myself. Wait that doesn't make sense…

A pair of twig-like, skinny arms caught me. That sounds all heroic. Let me rephrase that. _A pair of skinny arms broke my fall. _But I still hit the ground, and so did my savior. Cause, let me tell you, if you ever try to even LIFT Maximum Ride, your arms will fall off. And if she falls on you, you're a pancake. Enough said.

It was Fang, obviously. And even though he didn't make a sound when I rammed into him and squashed him into the dirt, I could tell his back and wings had taken a lot of the fall. Heck, _my _back hurt. And I wasn't even the one who literally slammed into the ground. It's all fun and games until someone looses an eye. Nudge covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide in shock. I gingerly rolled off of Fang and stood up, dusting the jeans I'd gotten at Wal-Mart three years ago for ten dollars. "Ow." I said.

I bent backwards and forwards to stretch out my back. I felt ten times better. I stuck out a hand to help Fang up, but he got up by himself. Then he grinned like the maniac he was. "That was _hot!_" he exclaimed. I was thinking along the lines of 'Eeeeeeeeeeew'. Iggy suppressed a smile. "Hot as in cool. Like, 'that was so cool'. You have such a dirty mind, Max." Fang clarified. I didn't think that was 'cool' one bit. You wouldn't either; if you were me.

*~0~0~*

Two hours and a hot shower later, I was curled up on the brown couch in my pajamas. Then Iggy notified me that it was my turn to do the dishes. Dang it. I made up a stupid lie, that no, it was Gazzy's turn, but Angel read my deceitful thoughts and defended Gazzy. And everyone believes Angel.

So now, here I was, scrubbing away at the leftover silverware and plates humming "Under the Boardwalk" by The Drifters. What? Fang's the one that knows a trillion songs. I don't listen to modern music. The 50's songs were pretty good. _I _think they are…

and Fang was watching me the whole time. The little stalker. Next thing you know, he'll be figuring out where I live! Oh wait – he already knows that. Creeper. "Hey," I said accusingly. "You have to help me now, 'cause you were stalking me." I gestured to the mountain of dishes I still needed to do. He shrugged and strode over beside me. Then, I did a despicable thing.

I splashed him with dish water.

And the imbecile splashed me back.

There you have it folks: a full-fledged water fight. I filled a cup with water and dumped it on his head. Fang sprayed me with soapy suds. I swore at the cold water that was trickling down my face and neck. Then I poured whole bowls of water on him. He did the same, but I could tell he was fighting off a smile. Sooner or later, Fang and I were laughing, getting soapy water in our mouths and clothes, Fang's raven black hair dripping with strawberry scented Ajax soap, and trashing Iggy's beloved kitchen. I giggled the whole time. It was all worth it, though. Maybe not. Because we had to clean it all up. I'm surprised the Flock didn't hear all our ruckus. Says an enraged Iggy. And Nudge. Apparently her eyeshadow was in the kitchen, and Fang and I had ruined it. Why was it in the kitchen anyway? I didn't think Nudge ate her make-up.

I huffed as I knelt down with a towel to soak up the mess. Fang wordlessly soaked towel after towel, and soon, his entire side was clean. He came over to help me. I stepped to the laundry to get a towel and pushed my dripping brown hair behind my ear. I didn't notice the puddle on the floor. My left foot plopped right into it and I slipped. _Thump! _I yelped and threw my hands in front of me to break the fall, but only managed to hurt my wrist. "Ughhhh…" I groaned, rubbing my knees. I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. "You 'k?" Fang asked. And when I looked up, I saw pure concern etched into his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine." But I wasn't. "That's two falls in one day." I joked, lightening the mood. "you know how us bird-children heal."

He removed his hand from my shoulder and got the towels himself, and set to work on my side. I hate to admit it, but that was pretty nice on his part. He technically cleaned the whole kitchen, including my side, because I'd injured myself. I swore to my brain that I'd do something for him someday. Fang silently retreated to the dark caverns of his room and left the shower to me. Without uttering a single word of thanks, I hogged the bathroom and took yet another hot shower. Feeling super bad, I went to bed.

Later that night, I heard the shower turn on. I crawled out of bed and tip-toed toward the sound of water pounding the tub. I'm pretty sure Fang was singing in there. Singing! He wasn't that bad, actually. I recognized the song.

_Oh, we'll be fallin' in love,_

_under the boardwalk_

_Oh, under the boardwalk, down by the sea, yeah_

_On a blanket with my baby, that's where I'll be, yeah  
><em>

Fang was humming "Under the Boardwalk."

I couldn't sleep that night.

**A/N: This was supposed to be a oneshot, but I guess it all comes down to the reviews..REVIEW! Fang will love you forever if you do. By the way, I don't write romance, even though I LOVE fax. So just forewarning you: no sappy romances here. No siree. I'm not pulling an Edward. (Review if you know what I meant.) Did anyone get the "I like trains" reference? Comment if you knew! Gotta love asdf videos. I'm currently in love with Taylor Swift's song, "Safe and Sound". It's gonna be in The Hunger Games, and I'm, like, in love with it. And no, she's not singing about some ex-boyfriend. Check it out. Also, check out **luvcookiesandHMS**'s story, "The Newbie Has Wings 2". Review it, and it'll really make Skyler's day! Take a look at my profile when you get the time. Remember, R&R!**

**~MagicalNeonOwls (Hallie)  
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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey-lo! Thank you guys so mush for the reviews! Thank you **Angel Ride**,** I Hate Jam, **and **Amazingness**! Your reviews motivated me and made t****his story possible. Enjoy! **

**I am James Patterson. Do you believe that? Probably not. I don't either. I DON'T OWN MR. **

It was Fang's turn to wash the dishes. Iggy developed a cold, so I had to cook. How ironic. It went like this:

"Man, Max, I really don't feel all that great." Iggy's forehead radiated waves of heat.

"Okay, yeah, I said you could just chill today. You know, try to cool that fever." I said. I really didn't want a sick bird cooking my food.

"I don't feel good Max. Someone else has to make breakfast."

"Yes, Iggy, I get it, 'k? Nudge'll make something, or Fang could, or Gazzy. Whatever. You rest though." I was trying hard to not lose my patience but failed miserably.

"Nudge can't, she'll contaminate it with some freaky cosmetic. And Gazzy will fart in the food. Besides, he's only eight. Fang has to wash the dishes and Angel—"

"You left Fang in charge of dishes? Wait, what dishes? We haven't eaten yet." I asked incredulously. After what happened yesterday? Was this guy nuts? Was he mentally blind too?

"You and Fang never finished washing dishes last night, smart one. You got a problem Fang doing his chores? Anyway, Angel is just plain out _young _so she can't. That leaves you. You're cookin." Iggy said, doing the Beiber flick with his strawberry blond hair. How annoying. Not in the mood for arguing, I decided to hatch a plan. There's no way in the Underworld that I'm making food. I'll just end up killing the Flock. My food is to die for. Literally. It's no fair that Fang—

Fang.

Fang, Fang, Fang.

He's the solution to all my problems! Fang could cook, I'd do the dishes…

I felt like I reinvented the lightbulb. Slamming Iggy's bedroom door, I stalked to the kitchen to see Fang. He stood there, in all his gloriousness, managing to look pretty smooth for a guy who just woke up and was forced into doing housework. He no longer smelt like soapy strawberry soap and I realized that his hair still looked damp from his late night shower last night. "Hey," I said. "Listen up, I wanna do the dishes, and you can cook. Deal?"

Fang did the Beiber flick. GAH. "Nope." He popped the 'p'. "I'm almost done with the dishes. I'll end up doing more work than you." He reasoned. Dang it. That boy was smart. I never beg. Maximum Ride does not beg; ever. But this was for the sake of the Flock. I didn't want their tongues falling off because of me.

"Please, Fang. Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?" I was disgusted by myself. But Fang didn't even have to think to say:

"Nope. Zip. Never. Never ever."

"Oh my goodness, Fang, I'll do anything." I said, not realizing what I'd just gotten myself into.

The last time I said I'd do anything, Angel and Nudge turned me into a freakin' Barbie, and Fang, Iggy, and Gazzy had a good laugh making me do all the work in the world.

He hesitated. "Okay. I'll do it. You'll end up killing the only bird-kids alive with your cooking anyway. So yeah, I don't wanna die." Way to boost my ego, Fang.

I jovially bounced away. Just kidding. More like walked away. My stomach growled, though. I missed Iggy's fast and delish cooking. I leapt upstairs and to my room. Speaking of Iggy…

Gazzy rocketed toward me in the speed of light. Busting through the doorway, he nearly knocked me over, but I stepped aside just in time. "MAX! MAX! IGGY'S DYING!" he yelled. Fang couldn't hear any of this because he was downstairs.

"What the…?" I hopped out of bed sped two doors down to Iggy's room. Angel and Nudge were giggling in the bathroom, so it was just me, Gazzy, and –

"IGGY!" Gaz shouted. "STAY WITH ME, MAN!"

Iggy was curled up in drenched covers, shaking and sweating like a human fountain. His hair plastered to his tomato-red forehead, and his hands holding his stomach like he was afraid it might explode, Iggy certainly looked like he was dying. His eyes were squeezed shut and he pursed his lips. It scared me to death. "Oh…my…freaking…Lord." I said. I practically flew down the stairs. "FANG! FANG! GET UPSTAIRS!" I hollered. I didn't slow to see Fang's reaction or to hear what he was saying. My feet pounded against the floor. Iggy held us together. He was the blind guy. He helped us out in so many ways. I knew he'd live today, but he might go away tomorrow if his fever didn't go away. I couldn't think like that though.

I threw open the back door and sprinted the whole muddy way to the nearest Walgreens without stopping to take a breath. Not once. My body prickled with sweat and my hair stuck to the back of my neck. Tucking my wings into my back and adjusted my jacket some, I flung open the double doors to Walgreens and inhaled the sharp scent of mint and air freshener. A million isles splayed out in front of me, and I'd no clue what to ask for. Everyone in the building stopped to stare, but I didn't bother shooting them dirty looks. I located the nearest lady in a Walgreens T-shirt and nearly grabbed her. "I need medication for my brother." I said.

She seemed startled but she answered anyway. "Uh, how old is yer brother?" Despite her Southern accent, she seemed really professional.

"He's 40." I lied. Mutants can take WAY stronger medicine than normal humans. "Shaking with a stupid fever, gonna die soon, and I need the stuff NOW."

She just stared with her blue eyes. I think I was being too vague. "He's sweating buckets, tomato red, and he's havin' major headaches. Please, I need the medicine." I explained impatiently. Walgreens woman nodded and rushed behind a counter and when she came back out, she was holding two bottles in her hand.

"I ain't supposed to give ya these, you got no prescription, but your brotha' mighta need 'em. I know he ain't dyin', 'cause you'da drove him to the 'ospital by now. Read what the instructions say, okay? Now hustle, get to him." She finished. I nodded my thanks, snatched the bottles and shoved a twenty in her hand. I ran for it.

You may be thinking, what the hey, you're way overreacting. Well, when someone you love (like a brother), gets so much a _scratch _on them, you'd be doing the same thing. Heck, and when your brother's shaking and sweating and bright red, you'd be spazzing and making a million phone calls.

I ran all the way back home, my knuckles white from grasping the bottles so hard. Angel opened the front door and she looked relaxed. How was Iggy doing? "Iggy's fine, Max." Angel said, reading my mind. "But we still need whatever you've got in your hands." She added. Handing her the bottles, I strode in and collapsed on the brown couch, panting. The blank walls stared at me. Angel rushed upstairs.

"Hey, Ange?"

She paused. "Yeah?"

"Is Ig seriously okay?"

She hesitated. "Yeah."

And that's when I knew he was not okay. I ran up the stairs.

*~0~0~*

Fang flopped next to me on the couch. Our shoulders were almost touching. "The medicine's helping, you know." He said quietly.

Iggy had salmonella.

"Yeah." I said, looking up into his endless eyes. "I hope. Should I give Ig some popcorn? He'll feel better."

Fang laughed, and I loved the sound of it. I wanted to make him laugh all the time. "Iggy'll just groan and refuse it anyway. Either that, or he'll chunk it at you. You'll be Corn Head." He said.

"You should be an Oracle of Delphi."

"I'm not a hippie mummy thing."

"Yeah, you are."

Fang threw the TV remote at me. I ducked and it hit the wall. "That's it." I declared. "I'm making popcorn." I stood up and shuffled to the kitchen. Fang laughed again.

I'll remember to talk about popcorn more often, then.

*~0~0~*

Angel, Nudge, and I were watching 'How to Train Your Dragon'. Fang offered to take The Iggy Shift, which was like a watch, but you watch Iggy the whole time.

Jeez, that sounds so stalkerish.

Right now, Hiccup just lost his leg fighting a huge mutated dragon. But then he comes back to his village-thing, and there are dragons everywhere and everyone says he's a hero. I think about that.

Everyone has a huge dragon to battle, all the time. No matter what form the dragon comes in.

*~0~0~*

A week later, Iggy felt way better. All of the Flock was in a great mood, including Gazzy, who had honestly thought he was going to lose his best friend. While, Iggy and Gazzy were bonding by building bombs, and I suggested the rest of us go out to a restaurant.

"What? We've been to restaurants before. Don't _look_ at me like that!" I protested. Even Fang's emotionless façade was broken. They literally _gaped _at me. It would've been comical if I hadn't been totally serious at the time.

"Max, you've mentally lost it. We're gonna order a ton of food and it'll be really embarrassing and we don't got the cash to pay for it anyway so—"

"It's don't _have_," I snapped. "And it isn't _embarrassing _we eat a lot, we can't help it. And I already figured out about the money. And we're going whether you like it or not." Okay, maybe I was being kinda harsh, but did she just call our family 'embarrassing'"?

The Flock stared me down harder. Oh Lord, I don't want to act like a mom. "We're gonna go to IHOP." I said to no one in particular. "Come on, guys, it'll be fun!" Angel warmed up to the idea of pancakes, a delicacy in the bird-kid dictionary. Grudgingly, one by one, the three of them agreed. Halfway there, I pointed out to Fang he was the only guy in the posse. He somehow shrugged while flying. I'd memorized the way to IHOP because I'm so in love with it, and we were there in no time, strolling through the glass double doors.

Nudge ran ahead and sat at a booth seat facing a window, and the rest of us filed in behind her. Fang sat on the edge, me beside him, Ange and Nudge on the other side in a way that I was facing Nudge. A framed menu lay in front of me. I took a good, long look at the menu and spotted it.

It was The One.

CHOCOLATE CHIP PANCAKES! I nearly fell over with amazement. Oh, and I squealed like a dying pig. I now officially love IHOP. Fang watched me with amusement twinkling in his eyes. A young blonde waitress came over. "Do you guys know what you want to order yet?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at Fang. She looked like she was undergoing a facial seizure.

"Yeah," I said coldly. "I'm ordering six orders of chocolate chip pancakes. I don't know about them." I gestured to Angel, Nudge, and Fang. Her jaw dropped.

"All for you? That's like, twelve pancakes!" she exclaimed, but then turned red and covered her mouth. Nudge looked embarrassed. "And what does your daughter and her friend want?" Annoying Blonde Girl said, recovering from her shock.

"Angel—? She's not my daughter. I don't have kids. I'm 15." I said. The waitress flushed a brighter shade of red.

"Sorry, you're tall…" she mumbled. Angel broke the awkward silence.

"I'll get three orders of blueberry pancakes, ma'am, and four strips of bacon, please." She said sweetly.

"I'll get one order of French Toast." Nudge said.

"Uh, I'll have three Big Steak Omelettes." Fang said.

Annoying Blonde Girl wrote all this down, looking flustered. "That'd be it?" she asked. We nodded. But I needed to talk with Nudge. "Nudge," I hissed. "I know you would eat more than four blueberry pancakes. What happened?"

Nudge looked away, leaving me to gaze at her kinky, Afro curls.

When the orders arrived, we were starved beyond measure, and the sky outside proved it was noon. None of us made a sound as we devoured the multiple orders we ordered. Nudge had finished early, and I thought I heard her stomach growl, pleading for more delicious French Toast. Annoying Blonde Girl clomped over to our booth and stuck out the bill. Eighty-four dollars. Of course, I'd come prepared, and of course it wasn't my money. I held out the credit card under the name Bob Sullivans that I'd stolen from some fat guy. She nodded, took the card and stayed at the register for a minute. She came back with a frown. "Your name is Bob?" she asked Fang.

Fang shot me a glare and said, "Yeah."

I held in my hysterical laughs. Fang as Bob. He would never live it down. I slid out of the booth. Nudge followed Fang and I out the double doors. Angel was filling her pink pockets with those crayons you get at restaurants. A burst of fresh air and the smell of flowers greeted me. "Oh! Ma'am! Sir! You forgot your daugh—er, the little girl." Annoying Blonde called after us. Angel ran to catch up with us, dropping some crayons in the process.

"Stupid waitress," I muttered.

"What?" Fang inquired.

"The girl thought Angel was my freaking _daughter_. I'm only fifteen! Jeez…"

"It makes sense though." He said.

"What?" I said, more surprised than anything else.

"We mutants are freakishly tall, so thought we're older. She thought Angel was ours." Fang said.

"Oh," was my intelligent reply. She'd thought Fang and I were married or something. Ew.

*~0~0~*

Before bed, Iggy had cooked a special dinner to honor his improving health. How selfless of him. It was great though, and Nudge wolfed it down in seconds. I lay in my bed, counting sheep. Fang stopped at my doorway.

"I'm excited about tomorrow." He said.

"Why?"

"I washed the dishes _and_ cooked breakfast. Plus, you failed the intervention. You have to do whatever the rest of the Flock makes you do for a day. That day is tomorrow."

I was speechless cause he was right.

**DUN DUN DUN. Max has a fun day coming up. Special thanks to **I Hate Jam **for subscribing this to her Story Alert. It means a lot!**

~**Hallie**


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